Mortality
by MaverikFlame
Summary: Loki decides he'd like to keep Tony around. He tries to steal the Apples of Youth, but the pursuit of immortality comes at a high price. Tony/Loki, Mortality series, crossover with Egyptian Mythology
1. Chapter 1

_Cover courteous of the fabulous Felifay!  
_

_A/N_: So. This is the third part of the _Mortality_ series. NO, WAIT! You don't necessarily need to read the other two to read this.

Mostly, what you need to know is: Tony and Loki are engaged, more or less, BUT it wasn't something overly cutesy (I hope). They screwed around together for a while only to realize that, yeah, they kinda liked each other enough to try the happily-ever-after thing. Especially if that meant giving Fury an aneurism. _Definitely_ if it meant Loki in a wedding dress.

Merry Christmas, and enjoy!

~Mav

* * *

**Meet the Parents**

Tony was just along for the ride, really. There was little else he could do when at the mercy of a pair of ancient gods.

He squinted into the sun. The sweat on his palms made the suit's gauntlets stick oddly to his skin. Generally speaking, he didn't think of his suit as separate from him anymore, and yet there were times when he was very much aware of the fact that he was essentially locked inside a tin can.

"Panic" was a word that came to mind, and Loki's solid presence to his left wasn't exactly helpful for once.

"Heimdall!" Thor called out to heavens. "Open the Bifrost!"

Tony swallowed thickly and pulled his stare away from the blue sky. He stared instead down at his armored feet and where they scuffed at the runes etched into the ground.

"_Do_ stop fidgeting," Loki said in that bored way of his. On his other side, Thor laughed and clapped Tony's shoulder, hard enough to jostle him even through all the layers of armor.

Tony shot a glare at each god, though it went unnoticed behind his face-plate. "By the way," he said, "I hate you both."

Loki smirked but said nothing.

_Breathe_, Tony reminded himself. This was alien technology at work. Technology was good. Tony liked technology.

Granted, when the technology pointed at him could also be used to destroy planets, Tony liked it considerably less.

Then the earth seemed to tremble and the air to hum around them, and Tony grabbed hold of Loki's sleeve. The world turned bright and over-saturated, and when the ground left his feet and the world rushed by in a blur of light and color, Tony wondered if this was what it felt like to have a heart attack.

"Oh God." Solid ground reasserted itself under Tony's feet, and he clutched at Loki's sleeve with both hands as his legs trembled under him. "Oh God, oh God, oh God." It took him a moment to realize that the roar of sound had died down and that his lips, which had been moving soundlessly this whole while, were forming the same two words over and over.

It took him another moment to realize that his eyes were screwed shut. He blinked them open and looked about in awe at the golden dome that surrounded them. A third god stood upon a dais with a sword in his hands, eyes gold, piercing, and decidedly unimpressed as they stared at Tony.

"Thought I was gonna pee myself there for a minute," Tony muttered with a shaky, lopsided smile as he straightened. Loki had to pry Tony's metal fingers off his sleeve. "Oh, hang on. I think I did." He looked down at himself, face scrunched in concentration as he shifted in his suit. "Oh, no, wait. That's just cold sweat and the smell of fear. Okay then."

"That _was_ an unusual amount of... turbulence," Loki remarked, shooting a glare at the other god – Heimdall, if Tony remembered Loki's angsty ramblings correctly.

"The Bifrost is still under repair," the Gatekeeper explained, showing no other reaction. "It will be days before we can even use it again. You are lucky."

Tony interpreted that as: _nope, not sorry, you great horned douche._

"He is right," Thor added, and his voice seemed to echo off the dome's walls. "We have only just started using the Bifrost again."

Tony's eyes popped wide at those words. He pulled up his face-plate to better stare at Thor. "'Only just'?" he echoed. "'_Only just_'? And you thought, what, let's throw the human through and _hope he doesn't die_?"

Somewhere in the back of his head was JARVIS' voice, and then his own replying _you have to run before you can walk_.

Screw it, this was different.

Thor tilted his head, brow furrowing in confusion as he regarded Tony. "It is safe enough," he answered. "We are each of us in one piece, are we not? Besides, that is why you are wearing your armor."

Tony's glare swiveled to Loki, who was now the one shifting uncomfortably. "You told me to wear the armor because it would make a better impression"

"It was a factor," Loki agreed neutrally. He favored Tony with the big-eyed, sheepish look the bastard knew always worked on him.

Tony pursed his lips. "I hate you both," he said flatly and took off down the bridge, head held high in a show of injured pride. Not that he knew where he was going or anything, and not that he found himself gaping about him in open fascination at the foreign atmosphere, the golden turrets of Asgard, the glow of the Bifrost.

Tony did not need to look behind him to know that Loki was rolling his eyes. Thor and Loki quickly caught up to him, a looming shadow to either side of him.

Their armor clinked and glinted in the light as they walked. Tony found himself darting glances at Loki more than once. He rarely ever saw Loki in full armor anymore, and, as dorky as he'd always said it looked, in a twisted way, he'd missed it.

The great golden horns swung towards him as Loki caught his gaze and arched one eyebrow in a question. Tony answered by waggling his own eyebrows suggestively. Loki rolled his eyes again but smirked.

Back home, Tony had already made the requisite pun about Loki feeling "horny" today.

"A bit heavy-handed, isn't it?" he asked. "Walking across a rainbow bridge with my male fiance?"

Next to him, Loki huffed a laugh, while Thor watched them both curiously. "You know I don't do anything by halves, Tony dear," Loki answered.

And oh, did Tony know.

Tony decided it was probably best his dad wasn't around to see this. Despite the questionable amount of adoration Howard Stark had held for a certain _Captain_, that was one conversation he was glad to have skipped.

He just hoped the in-laws were of the more open-minded type. Considering the hairstyles they let their sons leave the nest with, Tony figured he was in the clear.

* * *

Tony wondered what it said about him that his first impression of Odin was that he looked like an alien-pirate Santa.

Then again... it probably said that he shouldn't have had that drink before coming here.

Judging from the _look_ Odin gave him out of the one eye, he supposed the All-Father's first impression of him was that he was a bug to be squashed later. Staring up at Odin on his golden throne and surrounded by curious eyes – curious, _immortal_ eyes – Tony felt every inch the bug. Next to him, the queen sat and watched him just as regally, if more kindly.

_Try not to talk_, had been Loki's advice. _It's probably safer._

As affronted as Tony had been, Loki had had a point. When Tony was nervous, his mouth had a tendency to run away from him.

And really, Tony had been expecting to meet his future god-in-laws in a more intimate setting. Maybe they'd invite him over for dinner or something. Odin would throw a few burgers on the grill while Frigga regaled him with embarrassing stories from Loki's childhood. But this? Bowing before a throne with half of Asgard's eyes at his back?

Oh God, how drunk had he been when he'd thought coming here was a good idea? How drunk had _Loki_ been?

At least said mischief-god looked no less uncomfortable beyond the proud tilt of his chin. Bastard. The sex tonight had better be good.

"My lord," Tony greeted, bowing his head as Thor had instructed, albeit stiffly. Subservience was really not his thing. The words felt awkward on his tongue, and he amused himself by envisioning Steve standing here and giving an indignant speech about America and _freedom. _He bit his lips to keep from smiling.

Odin acknowledged the bow with a polite nod of his head. His one-eyed stare darted between the three of them. "It is a rare thing for a mortal to step foot in Asgard," he said. Tony suspected that was Odin-speak for _the fuck _you_ doing here_?

Tony wished he knew, really. His fingers twitched. Cold sweat was making things sticky again. Man, could he just go back to flinging nukes into space? Because that seemed like a picnic compared to this.

Then Odin's gaze swung to Loki, and Tony suspected that was the _real_ focus of his attention.

"Loki," he said neutrally in greeting. Tony couldn't quite read all the emotions in those two syllables.

"All-Father," Loki replied in a similar tone. Not "Father" or even "Odin": "All-Father", a compromise. Tony had the suspicion that Loki would make a frightfully good politician.

Really, the tension here was thick enough to cut with a knife. He wondered what the Christmas dinners must be like. He exchanged furtive glances with Thor and found himself feeling for the poor behemoth.

Odin was a long time in responding, likely trying to find the right words. He settled for, "Welcome home."

Loki nodded courteously but smiled in that tight way he did when there was something he wanted to say. "My thanks, but Midgard is my home now."

Tony turned to look at Loki then, startled. Loki gave him a look that all but said, _well, duh_. Blinking, Tony thought about it, knew that Midgard was, technically, where Loki lived now and where Loki _would_ live so long as they were together, whether he liked it or not.

And yet...

Knowing that and hearing Loki say the words were two completely different things. He found himself grinning like an idiot.

If anything, Odin's countenance grew colder, more closed off. "And the mortals welcome you?" he asked. "After all that has happened?"

Loki bristled, and Tony wondered if he should say something, as the resident "mortal". Luckily, Thor cut in before he could. "Loki is atoning for his transgressions, Father," he said. "He advises the group SHIELD in the matter of magic and lends them his aid in battle."

_While it amuses him_, Tony added in his head.

He could _feel_ Loki fighting the urge to roll his eyes, and he smiled to himself.

Some of the tension eased from Odin's shoulders at that. "Is this true?" he asked.

It took Tony a moment before he realized that the question was aimed at him.

"Oh, uh. Yeah. It's true."

Monosyllables. Let's stick with that for now.

Odin nodded to himself and let out a sigh that sounded like relief. "Then, Loki, I can leave any retribution for your crimes against Midgard in the hands of the mortals themselves. Thor, you will oversee this?"

"Of course, Father."

Tony fought the urge to fidget. Suddenly, he got the impression that he wasn't just here to meet the parents. Showing kinship with a human was a good way of showing "remorse", however false. _You lying, sneaky bastard_, Tony thought with some affection and much exasperation. Politics and coercion. Suddenly Asgard started to feel more like home.

Next to him, he could see Loki wearing the beginnings of a smile. He was getting off the hook easy, Tony realized. Smarmy bastard.

"Your crimes against Jotunheim are another matter, however."

Loki's smile disappeared, and Tony held his breath. "I was king at the time," Loki answered icily. "The king's word is law, is it not?" Odin's eye narrowed. "I did what I could to avert the war Thor started. It was _my_ decision to make."

Thor shifted awkwardly to Tony' right. Odin seemed ready to argue, but then Frigga reached over and grasped his hand. It was a quiet gesture, a simple gesture, but one that silenced the king of the gods immediately. "There is time enough for politics later," she said softly, only loud enough for the king and the three of them to hear. "Our sons are home. Can we not enjoy that for the moment?"

Odin's expression softened, and he nodded.

* * *

Odin had a strong grip. Tony tried not to think about his bones grinding together as he smiled his best celebrity smile and shook hands with the king. "Tony Stark," he said – with only a hint of cockiness, thank you. "Sir," he added in a rush, eyes widening. "I mean, my lord. I mean, Your Eminence?"

See? Subservience. Not his thing. At least they were out of the intimidating throne room and in a smaller, warmer sitting area, complete with balcony. Real swanky stuff, and that was coming from Tony.

"That's what you call the pope, _An_thony," Loki managed to snark over his mother's shoulder as he wrapped her up in an embrace with one arm, the other cradling that _ridiculous_ helmet. The softness in his features as he held her, as she all but constricted the life out of him made Tony stop and look again. Daddy issues aside, it seemed that Loki genuinely loved Frigga, and Tony's heart ached as he thought of the mother he had once loved like that too.

Odin chuckled, and Tony realized that he was still gripping the god's hand. He jerked his hand away and smiled sheepishly – almost manically – at his soon-to-be father-in-law.

"Ah, nothing makes you feel young again quite like striking fear in the heart of a mortal," Odin said with an impish smirk that reminded Tony jarringly of one of Loki's.

"Glad to be of service," Tony answered automatically.

Odin smiled and eyed him appraisingly. "Thor speaks quite highly of you, Tony Stark," he said.

"Only Thor?" Tony asked before he could think better of it, darting a glance at Loki. He wondered if that look said too much when he turned back to Odin and saw the bemused look on his face.

"Thor is the only one I hear from," Odin answered, and the words sounded heavy. "He says you have a... _balancing_ effect on Loki."

"Uh. About that."

A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, and Thor's shadow loomed beside his in a show of support, saving Tony from any further embarrassment. "Stark is a good man," the god said, his voice carrying enough to make Tony feel self-conscious, "and a brave warrior. A Midgardian prince of significant means, worthy of kinship with the House of Odin. I know of no one better suited for my brother."

Okay, so Thor was going to do the embarrassing himself instead.

Wait, hang on. Did Thor just say _prince_?

"Whoa, Thor, buddy, I'm not—"

"Indeed," Loki cut in, gripping Tony's other shoulder. Hard. "I could not have said it better."

"But—" Loki's grip tightened, Loki shot him a _look_, and Tony's mouth clicked shut.

Oh.

More politics.

_Son of a bitch!_

Odin eyed the three of them shrewdly, suspiciously. "Loki," he said frankly. "He's a mortal."

"Yes."

"And _male_."

"You know as well as I do that that is not an issue in this instance," Loki replied. "I can bear any and all children myself to continue the line."

"_Children_?" Tony squeaked. "What—?"

_Squeeze._

Okay, his shoulder was definitely going to bruise, suit or no.

Odin sighed wearily. It was a sigh that reminded him of dear, long-suffering Pepper. "Loki, I know you will do what you want with or without my blessing." There was a hint of a smile in his words as he added, "I know better than to get in your way."

Tony glanced at Loki, and the smirking devil _winked _at him. These gods were going to be the death of him.

The hands on either shoulder were replaced by Frigga's arms as she pulled Tony into an embrace of his own, uncaring of the press of the armor that had to dig uncomfortably into her skin.

"Welcome to the family," she said.

* * *

"So that's it, right?" Tony said after the king and queen had left. He finally remembered what it felt like to breathe. "Mission accomplished?"

"Mmm," Loki hummed in not-quite-agreement.

Tony turned to see Loki looking distracted, staring off into space and chewing at his thumb-nail. "Loki," Tony prompted, narrowing his eyes.

Loki's stare finally focused back on Tony. "I need a word alone with my father," he said.

Tony frowned as he watched him leave. Loki _had_ to be distracted to call Odin "father" without even a trace of irony. He glanced at Thor, but the thunder god looked just as puzzled as he.

* * *

Loki followed Odin, walking in the king's shadow. Odin did not look behind, but then, he didn't need to.

When they encountered an empty stretch of hallway, Odin slowed, matched his gait to Loki's so that they walked side by side.

"Master Stark seems like a good man," Odin said, and Loki nodded obligingly. Odin cut a look at his youngest son as he asked, "What are you gaining from this, Loki?"

"_Excuse_ me?" Loki replied, affronted.

Odin's look hardened, and he stopped, turning to give Loki the full force of the look. Loki swallowed but straightened, matching that stare. "I know you, Loki," Odin sighed. "Perhaps there is genuine affection between you and the human, but why marry him? He'll be dead soon enough, of battle wounds or old age, it matters not. You did not need to seek my approval for something so fleeting. I doubt you came back just to introduce your future husband." Softly, so that Loki barely heard, he added, "As much as I wish that were so."

Loki scowled and swallowed past the tightening in his throat. "No, I did not," he admitted, staring down the colonnaded hall into the cityscape beyond. "I wouldn't come back here unless I had no other choice."

He could feel Odin's eyes upon him. He traced a nick in the wall with his eyes and the tip of one long finger. He remembered Thor putting that dent there when they were children, play-fighting up and down the halls with wooden swords.

Such memories saturated Hlidskjalf, soaked up the air that filled Loki's lungs, that made each breath heavier than the last.

Memories from someone else's life.

"And it is my hope," Loki finally said, breathing deep, "that this not be something 'fleeting'. Which is why I brought him here."

The furrows along Odin's brow smoothed over. "The apples," he said.

Loki pursed his lips and nodded.

"For Tony, Father," Loki said, squaring his shoulders. "Not myself."

_Not _just_ myself_, he amended mentally, but Odin need not know.

Surprise sparked through Odin's eye. "You want me to give one of Idun's apples to a human?" he asked, as though he couldn't quite grasp that concept. Perhaps he couldn't.

"Yes, 'to the human'," Loki answered, his tone perhaps more clipped than was wise.

"And you think that, after everything that has happened, I could trust you or him not to abuse such a gift?"

"Father-"

"No, Loki."

Loki's face hardened at those familiar, hated words. Odin reached to touch Loki's shoulder, but Loki pulled back, out of reach.

"As your father, I am glad to see you have found someone who you care for," Odin said. He looked old in that moment, older even than before his last Odinsleep. "But as your king, I cannot ignore your crimes."

"You are not my father," Loki growled, "and you are _not_ my king – !"

"You belong to Midgard now, yes," Odin agreed, his countenance as hard as Loki's. "That fact alone is what keeps you from the dungeons."

Loki reeled back as though slapped.

"You tried to destroy one world," Odin all but shouted, "and to conquer another! That is _not_ something I can just overlook, my son or not! You ask too much of me."

Anger and humiliation were a burning lump in Loki's throat. "I did what you were too much of a coward to do, _Father_." He all but spat out the title.

This time when Loki reeled back, it was because Odin _had_ slapped him. His ears rang with the sound, his cheek smarting with the imprint of Odin's palm.

There were tears in Odin's eye when Loki looked at him, tears of anger or regret, he did not know.

"Even now," Odin said in a voice deceptively soft, "you don't regret your actions?"

Loki shook his head. "I regret needing to do them, but I had no choice."

Something like guilt churned in Loki's stomach, not for trying to destroy Jotunheim, which he did to prevent war and Asgardian deaths, not even for trying to conquer Midgard, which had been part of his deal with the Chitauri, but for saying – _believing_ – something he knew would disappoint Tony.

He knew that saying he didn't regret what he'd done to Midgard would anger and confuse Tony, so he played recalcitrant when he had to. He was the God of Lies, after all.

Odin sighed. All the weariness of his long centuries echoed in that quiet exhale. "I cannot grant you what you ask, Loki."

Loki shook his head. "I do not wish to outlive him," he said – _admitted_ – and his throat closed up around the words. Much of Tony's prime was already long past, and Loki shivered as he thought of the aging curse.

"Is that so."

"It is."

Loki surprised himself with the naked honesty in those words. He was damned now, and he knew it.

Odin studied him for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Loki felt like a child again under that sharp stare, the years peeling back and away to expose his vulnerable core. Loki fought the urge to hunch into himself.

At length, Odin asked, "What would you be willing to give to stay by his side?"

Loki swallowed, chewed his lip. That was the question, wasn't it? A question he'd already answered to himself when Tony had asked to marry him, in that stumbling, roundabout way of his. "Anything," he admitted.

There. Now all his armor was stripped away, and Odin could see all of him, could kill or save him in one breath.

"Anything?" Odin echoed softly. His face twisted through too many emotions to count, expressions that said Odin wanted to believe Loki but that he wouldn't, expressions that were knives in Loki's heart. "Are you certain?"

Loki nodded. There was that lump in his throat again.

"Then this is my sentence," Odin said. He approached, and Loki eyed him uncertainly, snapping straight and gathering his shields up and around him again. Odin laid a hand on Loki's shoulder, and this time Loki dared not turn away. The air crackled with magic. "In punishment for your crimes, I make you mortal."

Loki's breathing still, his eyes popping wide. His half-formed words of protest warped and stretched into a roar of pain as magic seared through him, dug bony fingers into his flesh and _tore_. He staggered, the world flaring white, and Odin caught him, guiding him to his knees, ancient hands strong and steady around his arms. His helmet clattered to the floor.

The pain was gone as soon as it began, leaving Loki hollow and wrung out. He shook with exhaustion and the aftereffects of magic, his vision marred by dark spots. Odin released him, and Loki fell forward, supporting himself on his hands and knees, whimpering softly.

He felt... _weak_. Diminished.

"What... what did you do?" he asked. His voice was little more than a croak.

"You are mortal," Odin answered. "And now your life is your own. Should you wish to stay with your human, you will _remain_ mortal. I will give you one month to change your mind. I cannot give your human immortality, but I _can_ give you this. It is up to you to decide if you truly wish to outlive him or not."

Odin's feet left Loki's line of sight, and the All-Father's retreating footsteps heralded his departure.

"I can't believe you," Loki growled after Odin. "_How can you_ _do this to me_?"

His shouts echoed back to him, unanswered.

The floor was cold and unyielding under Loki's palms as he tried to push himself up, snarling and clawing and _angry. _It was colder and harder still against his cheek a moment later when he failed.

* * *

Tony found him like that soon after.

"Loki!"

The god cringed at the sound of scraping metal, the sound of Tony's armored knees hitting the stone floor. A hand-shaped weight dropped onto Loki's shoulder, and the god sighed and pushed himself back onto his heels, cursing the shakiness of his limbs.

"I'm alright," Loki groused, swatting aside Tony's hand. Loki picked up the helmet he had dropped and set it back onto his head, the horns heavy and making him bow forward slightly. The human bent to catch his gaze, his dark eyes round and worried under furrowed brows. Those eyes always said too much, Loki believed. He could read them plain as day. "I'm alright," he said again, more firmly, glaring without rancor.

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure," he replied. "Since, you know, the floor's _always_ a good place for a nap."

Loki pursed his lips. As much as he wanted to meet snark with snark, he didn't have the strength right now to bother. Instead he grabbed hold of one of Tony's shoulders and used it to lever himself back to his feet, perhaps resting more of his weight on said shoulder than he would have liked.

Tony followed him up, grabbed his elbow when, embarrassingly enough, he found himself tilting at a dangerous angle.

"What happened?" Tony asked. His jaw was set, his eyes hard: it was the look Loki associated with Tony Stark the Avenger, all business and banked fury.

Loki licked the roof of his mouth as he came to a decision. "Tony," he said. His smile was sweet but with a hint of steel. Tony eyed him warily. "I'm going to need you to help me steal some apples."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N:_ Hey, guys! Sorry for the wait. Blame this chapter for being finicky, my illustration work for having deadlines, and _Merlin_ for stealing my feels. *cough*

Anyway, as always, thanks for reading, and a cyber-cookie to anyone who reviews. Not that you should be accepting cookies from strangers, but. Yeah.

* * *

**An Apple a Day**

"Apples?" Tony repeated, nonplussed. "Hey, you know. We _do_ have apples on Earth if you're looking to eat healthier. I mean, I could always–"

"Magic apples, Anthony," Loki sighed, patting Tony's cheek teasingly before walking back down the hall, willing his legs to remain steady this time. Golden pillars cast him in shadow one moment and left him exposed the next. "Magic."

"Oh."

Tony clunked down the hall after Loki, and the god bit back a smile, already steeled for what he had to do.

"Okay, well, we don't have _magic_ apples on Earth, as far as I know. Anything else on the grocery list? Magic bananas? An Easy Bake Oven?"

Loki sighed. "I suspect you've made another reference that I do not understand."

"Just keeping you on your toes."

Loki stopped and spun, grabbing Tony's chin and kissing the grunt of surprise off his lips. He pulled back, smirking, as Tony licked his lips.

"Magic apples," Tony said dazedly. "Alright. I can do that."

Loki smiled, glad Tony was too _distracted_ to ask questions. "Good," Loki purred, lips brushing Tony's. "Tonight then. For now, shall I show you the guest rooms?"

Tony growled and cupped the back of Loki's neck, smashing their lips together again. Loki rather liked how much taller Tony's suit made him, liked that _he_ was the one craning up for once. He hardly noticed when he found himself herded into the nearest empty room.

"I don't believe this is a bedroom," Loki pointed out.

"Whatever," Tony growled. Loki arched an eyebrow. Tony grabbed him by the lapels and pulled him close. "Lose everything but the helmet."

The door slammed shut behind Loki's surprised laughter.

* * *

Loki watched the sun set from their room, fingers tapping out a staccato rhythm against the windowsill as he waited. Idun went home in the evening, leaving the golden apples unattended, and Loki knew when patience was a virtue.

The stakes were higher now. Loki had always thought he might have to steal the apples but for Tony, not for himself as well.

If his fingers shook a little as they moved, no one had to know.

Tony came up beside him and nudged his ribs with one armored elbow.

"Hey," he said. "You okay?"

Loki pointedly didn't look at Tony as he asked, "Why wouldn't I be?"

Another elbow nudge. "That's not an answer."

Loki smiled weakly, his gaze tracing the familiar Asgardian skyline. The sky bled to gold and pink. It was almost time.

"I suppose it isn't."

Loki blew out a shaky breath and turned a sickeningly bright smile Tony's way. "Time to get ready," he said. "Put on your helmet."

Tony gave him a searching look, lips pursed, before he pulled on the helmet of his suit, letting it click into place before pulling back the visor. "You're bossy today," he said, one eyebrow arched.

Loki's lips quirked up as he pulled on his own helm. "Don't pretend you don't like it."

Loki could see Tony's smirk even as he closed his eyes, breathing deep and reaching for his magic. Evading his father and Heimdall's sight was something Loki had turned into an art form centuries ago, and, even out of practice, it was hardly difficult.

"So you think this will keep Peeping God from noticing us?" Tony asked as Loki began working a spell. The human's nerves barely hidden under a cocky smile.

Loki looked at Tony and considered his armored figure. The red and gold suit was now back in place (after its hasty earlier dismantling), and it was hardly the sort of thing that screamed "stealth".

Then again, anything that _screamed_ stealth was likely missing the point.

"No," Loki answered because he didn't _always_ lie.

Tony blinked. "Pardon?"

Magic sizzled at Loki's fingertips. "Odin's no fool. He knows I want the apples and what I might do, but this is our only chance. The idea is to grab the apples and run."

"Ah. Good plan."

It was hardly a plan at all, really, but Loki had always been better at improvising.

He could feel Tony's eyes on him as he cast a spell that would obscure them – not making them invisible, just inconspicuous – and again as he summoned an illusion of the pair of them.

And _because_ he could feel Tony's eyes on him, Loki pushed their illusory doubles into a tangle of limbs on the bed and into... a rather _amorous _embrace.

Tony's eyes were no longer on Loki. At least not the _original_ Loki. "Well," he said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Didn't realize you could use your magic to do _that_."

"You don't know the half of what I can do with my magic," Loki answered, his lips a wicked curve as he shot the human a coy look. Noting the sudden interest in Tony's gaze, Loki nudged him towards the door with an affectionate eye-roll and a hissed, "_Later_."

* * *

There was a garden adjoining the palace, hidden from the world by high walls that glinted gold in the sun and shone moon-pale that night. The garden was tended and guarded by Idun, a fair-haired goddess of few words, and was a favorite haunt of the queen. In the center stood a single apple tree, from which hung a cadre of beautiful golden apples.

_The fruit of the gods,_ the humans had called them._ The apples of youth_.

Loki could almost see them, glimmering like stars, from where he stood at the other end of the garden, pressed up against a shadowed curve of the wall. Idun would be sleeping now, leaving them unattended, and this was their chance.

"I want you to notice, by the way," Tony whispered at his ear, "that I am _not _asking why we're stealing a bunch of apples."

Loki looked at Tony over his shoulder and arched an eyebrow. "And?" he hissed.

Tony shrugged, smiling disarmingly. "And I just wanted you to know," he said, "that I am _not _asking. Even though it's a bit strange, and I am an exceedingly curious person, I am not asking. I am trusting you and not asking."

A smile quirked at the edge of Loki's lips, but the god turned back to their objective. "Duly noted, Anthony."

Tony fidgeted beside him, and Loki could feel the nervous glances shot at the back of his head.

"Okay, Loki, seriously, what are we doing?"

"I thought you weren't asking."

Tony chuckled nervously at his ear. "What can I say, I'm a fickle man."

Loki smirked and reached back over his shoulder to pat Tony's cheek. "Do you trust me?" he asked sweetly, turning so that he could see Tony's eyes out of the corner of his.

"I trust you," Tony answered slowly, warily, "to keep things interesting. I do _not_ trust you to keep us out of trouble."

"It's mutual, darling."

Tony let out an exaggerated sigh. "That's my problem. I never could resist a bad boy."

"Resisting me is futile; I am much too charming. Now hush."

Loki pulled Tony after him, smiling cockily, reassuringly back at Tony as they made their way through the garden, careful not to let his unease show. They should have encountered guards by now, and Loki knew better than to take that as a good sign. He suspected that Thor or perhaps even Odin himself would appear soon to stop him. The usual dance.

Loki cringed at the sound Tony's armor made in the dark, all creaking joints and screaming metal.

"Can't you keep it down?" he hissed as he padded along the dirt path. "That thing is a travesty."

He could feel Tony's scowl. "Whatever, Donner," he grumbled, indicating Loki's helmet with a jerk of his head. "Or should I call you Vixen?"

Loki stopped mid-eye-roll to scan the sky for unexpected thunderstorms and the like. "You are rubbish at this whole sneaking thing, you know."

Lightning flashed overhead, and Loki stilled, pulling Tony to a stop next to him. He cursed and pulled Tony with him into a shadowy alcove. Lightning flashed again but farther away, and Loki blew out a shaky sigh.

Tony eyed him curiously. "We are _really _not supposed to be here, are we?"

"Not even slightly."

Tony shifted, and Loki cringed at the rasp of metal on metal.

"Will you stop fidgeting?" he hissed.

"Oh, what, I can't _breathe_ now?"

Loki cut Tony's diatribe short with a well-aimed glare. He looked anxiously back at the gate to see the hallway beyond lit with a golden glow. There was another screeching of metal on metal, this time farther away, and Loki swallowed a curse.

"That... wasn't me," Tony said.

"I am aware," Loki breathed, gripping Tony's shoulder.

There was more screeching metal and then the thud of heavy footsteps as the molten glow grew, and then the Destroyer turned the corner, blocking the gate and hallway beyond from view. It towered over the shrubs by the door, its "eye" molten and bright with suppressed energy.

Loki had been expecting more than the usual guards, of course. But to him that had meant Heimdall or Thor or even Odin – a challenge, sure, but Aesir he could reason with.

In all of Loki's planning, scheming, and calculating, however, he had never gambled on _this_.

And it made sense, really, stationing something by the apples that Loki couldn't smooth-talk.

"Oh, damn," he murmured as the Destroyer turned and zeroed in on them. He squeezed Tony's shoulder with a grip that would bruise flesh. "Run."

"Run?"

"_Run_!"

Loki turned and all but pushed Tony ahead of him. Behind them, the Destroyer hummed, readying to fire, as they raced deeper into the garden and crowded behind a tall bush, close to the wall.

"I hope you have a Plan B," Tony said, eyes wide and wild, "or was this part of Plan A?"

The air flared blindingly bright, and the earth shook. The ground beside the bush was a scorched hole when Loki turned to look, eyes tearing at the smoke. A warning shot.

Next to him, Tony cursed and pulled down his visor. Loki caught his arm as he tensed to move. "Don't even think about it," he snapped. "The Destroyer would incinerate you in seconds!"

"Alright, then what's _your_ plan, princess?"

Loki spared a wistful glance at the tree with the golden apples, still far out of reach. "Retreat and regroup," he sighed. Blowing out a shaky breath, Loki closed his eyes and _reached_. He saw the familiar paths through Yggdrasil and focused on the closest one leading to Midgard. He frowned when his "sight" wavered but brushed it off.

"Yes, wonderful," Tony griped, and Loki heard him as though through a tunnel. "First, can you get us past the angry tin can over there?"

Loki arched an eyebrow. Tony sighed.

"Yes, yes, I'm one to talk," he added. "And?"

"And you'd better hold on."

Loki tightened his grip on Tony's arm and _pulled_ him towards Midgard. They appeared standing on top of a snaking branch of Yggdrasil, in the cold and dark and silence of the In-Between. The Destroyer and the garden were nowhere to be seen.

The air was unusually oppressive.

"Loki, what – ?"

Tony bit off his words at Loki's smile.

_We're safe_, Loki almost said, even though he knew better, when the branch under him trembled, and the smile died on his lips. The very air around them seemed to shake, and Loki suddenly found it hard to breathe.

"Loki?"

Tony's hand was on _his_ arm now, solid and grounding.

"My magic," Loki wheezed, thoughts whirring frantically. "What's wrong with my magic?"

And then he remembered: _mortal_.

Yggdrasil gave way beneath them, and the In-Between shattered into reality as they fell.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: _Okay, wow. This chapter just did not want to be written. I'm still not happy with it – _but_ I just want to move on already, and you guys have waited long enough. And by "long enough" I mean forever. Urk.

_Iron Man 3 _doesn't come out here until next week, so. I'm not sure how that will or will not affect this story (likely not) but at least it should help kick my Marvel muse back into gear. Mostly it's been lying on the couch and eating Doritos.

Reviews also help, as always. :)

_A/N, the sequel:_ Oh, and I'm totally making this shit up about "Deshret", so just go with it.

* * *

**Sunburn**

"Loki!"

The ground tasted like dust. Loki choked and squinted through the sting of grit and the harshness of the sunlight. The earth shifted and sieved through his fingers as he tried to push himself up.

"Loki. Hey."

A shadow blocked the worst of the sun's glare, and Loki blinked his eyes open to see a world saturated with orange-yellow sand and blue sky, two planes of solid color meeting and clashing in the distance.

His head was throbbing. The blue and yellow-ness was too much, and he closed his eyes, bit his tongue to stopper a whimper.

Then he noticed the weight on his shoulder in the shape of a palm and four fingers, a weight that pressed and gripped and shook.

"_Loki_, Goddammit!"

The heat was a second weight, a thick blanket he couldn't disentangle himself from. Smothering.

"Tony," Loki grated out. He licked his lips, tasted more dust. "Shush." He swatted at the hand on his arm halfheartedly. "M'tired."

A breath that sounded like a curse. The hand on his shoulder moved to pat Loki's cheek, clammy skin to clammy skin. Loki winced as the contact turned his head's throbbing into short stabs of pain.

"Nap-time later, Lokes. Up and at 'em."

Loki did not wish to get "up and at" anyone just now, but Tony's voice sounded strained for all its bravado. The god rolled onto his back to peer at him.

Sweat streaked Tony's face, sharpened his hair into tiny spikes, and though he smiled crookedly, his eyes were tight with concern. He was still in his armor, but the helmet was off.

Why was he in his armor?

For that matter, why was Loki?

"We're in a desert," Loki wondered aloud, slurring around a cottony tongue. "Why are we in a desert?"

Tony's answering sigh was a puff of air against Loki's face. "That was going to be my second question," he said.

Loki blinked, brow furrowing. "What was the first?"

"The first is: are you alright?"

Loki smiled weakly, crookedly. "Touching," he muttered.

"Well, are you?" Tony asked. There was an edge to his voice now.

"When am I not?" The slurring didn't help his case.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Well, that was quite the non-answer," he griped. "Can you at least answer question number three?"

"Which is?"

"What the hell just happened?"

Loki frowned, stared off into the middle distance. The heat was suffocating his thoughts.

"S'posed to be home," he murmured, shaking his head sluggishly and feeling sweat slide across his brow. "Earth. Midgard. This isn't Midgard."

Tony wiped a hand over his face (hands free of the gauntlets, too) and asked, "Are you sure we're not just in the Sahara or something?"

Loki hummed and considered, tasting the air and feeling the hum of magic under his fingers. "S'not Earth," he said, unsure how to explain to a mortal. "Talk to JARVIS if you doubt me."

"Don't doubt you," Tony muttered. Loki suspected he'd already tried. "So where the hell are we then?"

"Deshret," Loki answered, pushing himself to sit up with shaky hands. He glared at Tony when he tried to help, but the human glared right back. "Same planet as Asgard, different region. Not a place we want to be, by the way."

"Great," Tony sighed. He had a hand between Loki's shoulder-blades now, a light support. "Don't suppose there are any five-star hotels around?"

Loki sighed and closed his eyes, reaching out with magic that was twitchy and temperamental in his now-mortal (_temporarily mortal_, Loki reminded himself) hands. He could feel the hum of voices and life in the distance, and he gestured vaguely in their direction. "I see your five-star hotel and raise you a palace," he said. "Over that way."

With renewed energy, Loki pushed himself to his feet, scowling when he staggered. Again, Tony was there with a steadying hand at his elbow. "Palace?" Tony asked, head tilted.

"Yes," Loki answered, "I know the gods here." With a wink, he added, "This isn't my first time."

"Somehow I doubt there are any firsts left for you, gramps."

"I could bury you up to your ears in sand. _That_ would be a first."

Loki found his balance and pushed off in the direction of Ombos, a city he once knew far too well, and Tony followed suit, both helmets tucked under his arm.

"I could just fly us there," Tony pointed out. "This suit does more than make me look good, you know."

Loki had forgotten how much he hated the desert, with sand that found its way into his clothes and hair, that stuck to his sweat, and with a sun that glared with a vengeance.

The thought was tempting.

"I'm not sure they would respond favorably to a metal man flying towards their city. Plus you would have to be carrying me, and I _do _have my pride. It's not that far, anyway."

He could sense Tony's eye-roll. "Your loss. At least my suit's air conditioned."

When Loki turned to glare at Tony, it was to see the idiot wearing Loki's helmet, on top of everything. Loki stopped walking to give the human the full force of his scowl. "Really?"

Tony turned and waggled his eyebrows under the dip of the helm. "Feeling horny today, what can I say."

"Will you _ever_ tire of that pun?"

"Never."

Tony turned and continued walking – though "sauntering" was more the word.

"You are an idiot," Loki sighed, following.

"Don't hate me just because it looks better on me."

* * *

Loki could practically feel his skin peeling away where the sun hit it. He stumbled again, cursing himself and his weakness, and again, Tony caught him. This time Loki could feel Tony's stare piercing skin as well as the sun's.

"So are you gonna tell me what's going on?"

His eyes were hard, but his touch was gentle, careful as he steadied Loki. Loki smiled wistfully, thinking that that dichotomy was quintessentially Tony.

"I thought we'd gone to Asgard to tell your parents about us getting hitched, but the next thing I know we're trying to steal produce and fleeing for our lives. And now we're here."

"It wasn't the only reason we went to Asgard," Loki admitted.

He could practically hear Tony grind his teeth. At least the idiot had taken the helmet off again. "And what, exactly, was this 'other reason'?" he bit out.

Loki watched the ground pass under their feet. His smile was wan as he asked, "Do you trust me?"

Tony frowned and eyed him with a sideways look. "Sometimes," he murmured. "Look, Loki, I can put up with a lot, but... the king of the gods is pissed at us, we're stranded on a desert island –"

"-it's not an island-"

"-fine, stranded on a desert-_whatever_, and now you're about as weak as a kitten. I think I deserve to know _why_."

Loki bristled at the analogy. Then it occurred to him that this wasn't the first time Tony had been stranded in a desert, and he shut his eyes, grimacing.

Sometimes he wondered why Tony stayed with him, and he wondered if he would be this patient a hundred years down the line, should he become immortal.

He wondered if things would be better if Tony remained mortal after all.

"I will tell you when we get to Ombos," Loki lied, his voice turning brittle. "As for the weakening of my magic, I'm a Frost Giant. The desert sun does not agree with me."

Partial-truths were Loki's weapons of choice.

Tony's glare softened, turned a shade more concerned, and Loki cleared his throat, deciding to change the subject before Tony asked any other questions.

Most notably questions about why Loki's magic was weak _before_ they fell into the desert.

"Now," Loki said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, "when we get there, let me do the talking, yes? I'm not sure who's king at the moment, so this could be... interesting."

Tony gave him a side-ways look. "You calling something 'interesting' is never good."

"I have a broader understanding of the word."

"Whatever," Tony sighed. "Just... what do you mean you don't know who will be king? They're gods, right? Immortal? Or do the desert-people have a more democratic system?"

"Gods, yes. Democratic, no." Loki frowned and licked his lips, feeling them start to crack in the dry heat. "But there's usually quite a bit of infighting and usurpation. Hopefully Horus will be king this time. He's not particularly fond of me, but he should help us get back to Asgard, at the very least. And if _he's_ not king..."

Loki trailed off, biting his tongue. That wasn't an alternative he wanted to think about.

"And if he's not king?" Tony prompted.

"And if he's not king," Loki hedged, "that's when things will get _interesting_."

"You keep using that word. I'm not sure it means what you think it means."

* * *

They walked and walked, one foot in front of the other until Loki had a better understanding of the word "auto-pilot", and as they walked, Loki tried to peer into Yggdrasil and reach out to one of its smaller branches, discreetly testing his magic. He could _see_ the World Tree but barely, sensing more its shadow than its shape. Loki directed a stream of curses inward. They would need to get to Ombos to get to Asgard, and they would need to get to Asgard to get to Midgard.

Loki was screwed in more ways than he could count.

Chariots met them as they approached the city, a fact which was, for some reason, an endless source of amusement for Tony.

"I want one."

"No, Tony."

"But-"

"You can make yourself a chariot when we get home," Loki said, crossing his arms. "One that flies. And dispenses liquor."

Tony opened his mouth to argue only to close it again and hum appreciatively. "I'll make two," he replied decisively. "Then we can race. I promise not to do the Ben Hurr thing."

Loki's brows furrowed. "The Ben Hurr thing?"

"You know, the..." Tony made a singularly unhelpful twirling motion with his finger, "the Ben Hurr thing."

Then the chariots were upon them, and Tony was too busy choking on dust and sand to elaborate.

* * *

Tony gained a new appreciation for the term "horsepower" as the desert air whipped by, hot and dry like sandpaper against his cheeks. He squinted through the sand and dust and wind, hiding his euphoric grin behind one metal-clad arm while he braced himself against the edge of the chariot with the other.

He was _so _making one of these when he got home. He was already making calculations and adjustments in his head, thinking of ways to make a chariot that was sleeker and more aerodynamic. Maybe one that flew like the Chitauri's had.

His grin turned more grimace at that, and he darted a glance at Loki, who was pressed up against the other side of the chariot and looking much less impressed with their mode of transportation. They jostled against a charioteer who all but ignored his existence but offered a few curt answers to some of Loki's questions.

Tony didn't understand a word that passed between Loki and the men on the chariots, bronzed men in loincloths and eyeliner who looked like extras from the set of _Cleopatra_.

And that's when it hit him: a desert kingdom, gods, _Horus _–

He grabbed Loki's sleeve and tugged, and the god paused mid-sentence to spare him a glance that was equal parts annoyed and questioning.

"Are we in Ancient Egypt?" Tony hissed, and okay, so that wasn't quite what he had meant to ask.

Loki looked at him like he was an idiot.

Tony rolled his eyes and waved his hand in a "never mind" gesture. "The gods of Ancient Egypt," he said. "They live here?"

Loki sighed, pulled his sleeve free of Tony's grip. "Yes," he said shortly, but without looking Tony in the eye.

Tony had loved those stories growing up and, to his credit, he did not shriek like a little kid. "Can I meet Anubis? Does he really have a jackal head?" he asked in an excited whisper, and – yep – there was that "you're-an-idiot" look again.

Loki bent close to Tony and, licking his lips, enunciated slowly and softly, "Do us a favor, and shut up until I tell you."

Tony scowled, but Loki was giving him That Look, the one that made him feel like he was being skinned alive and that promised him he would be if he didn't tread carefully.

"Yes, dear," he offered, his tone somewhere between snide and sweet.

Then the chariots drew up to the gates of what was for all intents and purposes a fortress. The city was a giant sandcastle, the walls all sand-yellow with smooth sides, and Tony imagined gods the size of giants sitting by the beach, squishing wet sand between mammoth toes.

He glanced at Loki, who looked pasty under a burgeoning sunburn, his cheekbones and jaw marble-sharp and edged with sweat-lank hair. Tony was constantly reworking the mental image he matched with the word "god".

He knew it was pointless, but he was about to ask Loki if he was alright when the god spoke first. "Welcome to Ombos," he said. Despite the tacked-on smile and cheery words, Loki sounded more like he was bringing Tony into a funeral parlor than a city.

Tony frowned and wondered what Loki wasn't telling him.

* * *

**Footnote:** Okay, so not much happens in this chapter. Seth should be along next chapter though, so buckle in, kiddies.


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N_: SO YEAH. Think I'm finally hitting my stride, here. Huzzah!

Also, a bit of a linguistics note on how I spell Seth/Set, since I've already gotten a few questions (feel free to skip over the rest of the AN if you don't care, you lazy thing, you): either spelling (Seth or Set) is equally correct and incorrect. The names I'm using for the Egyptian gods, which are the names most people are familiar with, are actually the English translation of the Greek translation of the original Egyptian names. So in Ancient Greek, Seth/Set is spelled with a theta, which we usually transcribe as a "th" (e.g. A**th**ena, A**th**ens, **Th**anatos, etc.). Generally, the ancient theta is pronounced like a breathy "t", which to native English speakers can sound like a hard "th" (as in "thin" or "thick" but not "then"), while the Greek tau is closer to the hard "t" sound we're used to. For the sake of consistency, I spell Seth with a "th" because, OCD person that I am, I would otherwise have to start spelling Athena "Atena", Thoth "Tot", etc. This is really just a personal choice that comes from studying Ancient Greek in college, so don't over-think it. Like I said, either spelling is equally correct. Don't mind me.

So yeah. Clearly I just need to learn Ancient Egyptian. :P

In other news, I've adopted a litter of kittens and named them after Loki's children. That is all.

* * *

**Interesting**

Tony didn't realize he was fidgeting until Loki rapped a knuckle against his armored arm and hissed, "Calm down," in his ear.

"Calm", it turned out, was something Tony could fake. Patience wasn't.

"What the Hell are they saying?" he asked Loki, his voice a loud whisper. The loincloth-people had shooed them off the chariots and ushered them through the gates of God's Sandcastle, and now they hovered on the threshold, as stiff and still as chess pieces (at least in Loki's case), while Loincloth Guys One and Two exchanged fervent whispers.

From the hard set of their features and the curt way they spoke, Tony got the feeling that the sand-dudes weren't too happy to see them.

Loki heaved a great, put-upon sigh. "It matters not," he said. His gaze skittered away from Tony.

Tony pursed his lips. "Maybe not to you," he muttered. He had found himself hyper-aware of the noise his suit made as he walked, of the nails-on-chalkboard sound of metal-crunched sand. At least the kiss of air-conditioning against his skin made up for it. "I feel a little overdressed."

Loki's answering smile was wan, distracted. The opposite of comforting.

Eventually Loincloth Guy Two sped off down the corridor. Loincloth Guy One turned to the pair, bowed his head and said, "Come with me."

Tony's eyebrows rose. "You speak English?"

"Alltongue," Loki corrected around a sigh. He nudged Tony forward, and they followed the charioteer. "Now, what did I say about keeping your mouth shut?"

Tony gave him a sideways look. "You know," he grumbled, "you've already got the nagging wife thing down."

"You hear that? That is the sound of someone not shutting up."

"But – "

"Shut up, Tony."

Tony harrumphed, but Loki's answering glare was tired and half-assed at best.

"And I'll take my helmet back, please."

* * *

It turned out that "shutting up" was something else Tony didn't do well.

"This is so cool!" he said in a loud whisper that echoed back to him. "Look at all this! How old is this place, anyway?"

Next to him, Loki's lips pressed thinner and thinner.

Tony followed Loincloth Guy absently, gaze trailing up the hieroglyphed columns that loomed on either side. Stiff-limbed figures were carved in profile across the walls, depicting clashing armies led by large figures with the heads of animals. It was like a scene from _The Mummy_ come to life. The palace was an archaeologist's wet dream.

He craned his head back to see the column capitals, which were brightly painted in jeweled tones, and he accidentally stepped on their guide's heels.

"Sorry!" he hissed.

Loincloth Guy's look could freeze water, even in the desert. Tony replied with his most disarming smile, but the man ignored him.

He looked around then and realized they were standing before a golden throne. It wasn't as massive or sprawling as Odin's, but it was more detailed and delicately made, with wings painted in red, blue, and gold spanning its curved back.

It was empty.

"Loki! It has been too long."

Tony turned toward the voice and nearly missed the flash of panic in Loki's eyes.

From a side corridor came a smiling man in gleaming armor. He was tall and well-built, with bronzed skin and his hair hidden under a blue helmet, curved up and back like a biker's but sleeker, more fitted. His sandaled feet trailed sand and dust, and his skin shone with sweat. Even from a distance Tony could see his eyes were a piercing gold.

"My lord," Loki answered with a politician's smile.

Loincloth Guy sank to one knee. Loki gave Tony a meaningful look and followed suit, bowing his head, and Tony took the hint, his armored knee clanking against the stone floor.

"Too bad," he whispered to Loki. "I was hoping he'd actually have a falcon head."

Loki still wore that fakely perfect grin, his lips barely twitching as he said, "It's not Horus," through his teeth.

Tony looked at Loki more closely and read "oh shit" in the squaring of his shoulders.

The king - pharaoh? - motioned them to rise. His smile was broad, his teeth shining white against his tanned skin. "Please. There's no need for us to stand on ceremony. "

Tony didn't like the way the desert god looked at Loki as he said this. He eyed the spear at the pharaoh's side.

Then Tony remembered something Loki once said about a particular Egyptian god and wondered...

"Hello, Seth," said Loki.

Tony hated being right.

He hated more the way Seth surged forward and pulled Loki into a crushing hug, the shaft of his spear clanking against Loki's back. Loki returned the gesture with a wooden swing of his arms.

"I'd heard you fell and feared the worst," Seth said, pulling back to grip Loki's shoulders. "It gladdens me to see that you're alive. That you've returned."

There was something triumphant and dangerously hopeful in Seth's eyes as he murmured this last bit.

Tony tried to catch Loki's eye, but the god was studiously not looking at him. Tony wondered if this was what it felt like to be invisible.

"I am actually here quite by accident," Loki said, smiling in a way that didn't reach his eyes as he stepped back out of Seth's grip. "Took a wrong turn, as they say. Good as it is to see you, I was rather hoping you would help me get back to Asgard before Mother starts to fret too much."

Tony grit his teeth. He was unimpressed with all the singular pronouns.

At least Loki's words had wiped the smug look off Seth's face. His eyes narrowed.

"Yes, of course," said the pharaoh distantly. Instead of elaborating, he turned pointedly to Tony. "And who is this?" he asked.

Tony straightened and smiled insincerely. He raised an eyebrow at Loki – _see? not talking_ – and waited to be introduced.

Loki's eyes caught his – a flash of worried green – then looked back at Seth, as cool and collected as ever. "This is Tony," he said, "my – "

Tony held his breath. _Lover? Fiance? Boy toy?_

"My companion."

Tony blinked. "'Companion'?" The word was blurted, tone surprised and offended.

"_Companion_," Loki emphasized. This time when Loki caught his stare, there was only irritation in his gaze.

Tony gaped at Loki but bit his tongue. He wasn't an idiot: Seth was an ex and they needed to be on his good side. Macho posturing wouldn't help right now, especially since Seth was a _god_ in a city of gods, and Tony was just one measly narcissistic human in a glorified tin can (JARVIS reminded him of this in a more sophisticated, British-sounding way).

But if there was one thing that Tony couldn't deal with, it was feeling insignificant, and he bristled to say something just on principle.

Seth eyed them both, expression equal parts impassive and calculating, and there was something in the tilt of his head and the cut of his stare that reminded Tony uncomfortably of Loki.

Seth turned to Tony. "Well, then welcome to Khemet, Tony," he said pleasantly.

Tony had shaken hands with enough politicians (and spent enough time with Loki) to know a fake smile when he saw one. He offered Seth one right back.

Seth's expression turned openly curious as he looked over Tony's suit. "I am intrigued by your armor," he said. Tony's skin prickled at the scrutiny.

"And I'm intrigued by your eyeliner," Tony quipped, gesturing loosely at his face. "Where'd you learn to do that? Adam Lambert?"

Loki cursed under his breath and ran a hand over his face.

Seth's stare flicked back up to meet his, and his smile sharpened in a way that said he knew he was being mocked. "Centuries of practice," Seth replied. "I would, however, love to know the inspiration for your suit. Rather reminds me of a cockroach."

"It's been a long day," Loki cut in, angling himself in front of Tony and resting a hand on Seth's arm. His fingers were long and pale against Seth's gold skin, and Tony wrenched his gaze away. "We're rather tired."

Seth's expression gentled as he nodded, ignoring Tony again. "Of course. My apologies. We can talk more after you're rested." There was that masking pleasantness again. Tony scowled at the back of Loki's head and said nothing.

Seth turned to Loincloth Guy, acknowledging him for the first time – which made Tony feel slightly better about himself and slightly worse about Seth – and murmured something to him in their native language. Loincloth Guy bowed his head and turned to Loki and Tony.

"Come," he said. "I will show you to your rooms."

Seth's hand caught Loki's wrist as he passed. Their shoulders touched, and Seth's lips nearly touched Loki's ear.

"It _is_ good to see you," Seth whispered.

Loki swallowed. "I imagine it is," he said as he pulled away.

JARVIS informed Tony that he would develop TMJ if he ground his teeth any harder.

* * *

After showing them to their (separate, but equally luxurious) guestrooms, Loincloth Guy departed with a curt bow and an air of silence. Tony wondered what his name was.

Loki pushed his way into Tony's room, eyes flinty, and Tony sighed, straightening in the middle of manually peeling off his armor. He folded his arms across his still-armored chest and met Loki's advance with a glare of his own.

"What in Hel was _that_?" Loki hissed, hands cutting the air.

"What the Hell was what?" Tony asked in kind.

"I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut!" Loki's lips, tongue, and teeth exaggerated their curl around each syllable as though to make up for the lose of volume.

"Oh, I'm sorry, is the _companion_ supposed to be mute? Believe me, there is a _lot_ more I could have said."

Loki bristled, pursing his lips. "The last place you want to be," Loki said, still in a harsh whisper, "is on Seth's bad side. It's better he dismiss you as unimportant."

"What, you think I can't defend myself?" Tony grit out through his teeth. "Loki, I am getting _real_ tired of you making decisions on my behalf."

Loki's anger seemed to die out as quickly as it came. His shoulders slumped, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead with long fingers.

_Shaking_ fingers.

"Hang on." Tony was at his side before he could think better of it. "Are you okay?"

Predictably, Loki glared and replied with a non-answer. "Why wouldn't I be?"

He really _did_ look tired, Tony realized. His skin was gray under the sunburn, his eyes sunken and glassy. Worry tied Tony's stomach in knots.

He made a mental checklist of the symptoms of dehydration and fatigue.

They could always bitch at each other later. Tony was sure he'd still be annoyed then.

"We just spent the day wandering the desert," he answered with a one-shouldered shrug. "We're allowed to feel like crap, you know."

Tony was careful in his use of the plural pronoun. For someone who has lived so long, Loki was awful at taking care of himself.

Not that Tony was one to talk really. He could almost hear Pepper calling them Mr. Pot and Mr. Kettle.

"Don't know about you, but I'm parched," he said. There was a pitcher of water by the bed, and he poured himself a glass. He took a long, slow gulp, and it almost hurt against his dried-out throat. He refilled the glass and handed it to Loki, who gave him an odd look but sipped absently, automatically.

"And you might as well stay here, really," Tony went on, eyeing Loki. "The bed's pretty big, and I always did like a slumber party. We can have pillow fights in our underwear." He waggled his eyebrows.

The god smiled tiredly and set the now-empty glass back on the table. "Are you trying to get me into bed, Mr. Stark?" he asked with feigned innocence.

"Always." But Tony settled for kissing the corner of Loki's jaw and nudged him towards the bed, which was sprawling and inviting with gold, silken sheets. "The real question is why you ever leave bed at all. I'm just going to lure you back, after all."

Tony waited for a teasing rejoinder, but it never came. He frowned into the unexpected silence and looked more closely at Loki. The god looked on the verge of collapse.

Luckily, Loki settled for collapsing onto the bed, his movements sluggish and tired as he peeled off his boots. Tony eyed him for a moment and then went back to stripping off his armor. By the time he looked up again, Loki had slumped onto his side, loose-limbed in sleep.

Tony shook his head, arranged him more comfortably - the god was dead weight - then just sat and watched him breathe.

Tony wasn't an idiot. In fact, he prided himself on just how _much_ he wasn't an idiot, Pepper's comments aside. He knew Loki was keeping something from him (probably some_things_, actually), but the secrecy and headaches came with the package.

But he guessed it didn't matter. With any luck, they'd be back home tomorrow, and he'd be back to dealing with a more manageable number of gods.

* * *

**Footnote:** I probably should have proofread this...


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N:_ Just finished teaching Egyptian Mythology at a fine arts camp, which seemed fitting since I taught Norse Myth last year. I reeeeally wish I could have talked more about all the gay, but this particular group was too young to get the mature bits. Oh well.

(Seth/Horus is canon, btw. Look it up. Do itttt!)

* * *

**The Best Laid Schemes**

Loki slept long, embarrassingly long, but still managed to wake before Tony. He tried not to think about how tired the human must have been to sleep so deeply, and he would have felt guilty for dragging him here had he not had the best of intentions at the time.

Loki laid there and considered his options, watching the gold bedsheets shimmer in slivers of sun. Lifting a hand to his face, he blew out a breath and called fire to him. A small flame flickered to life in the palm of his hand, held for a moment, and sputtered out into nothing.

Wonderful. So the mortality curse was affecting _all_ of his magic, not just his more complex spells.

Even if he could get them to Asgard, the chances of them getting to and using the Bifrost before being captured were laughably small. He would have to talk his way out of trouble with Father again.

He wondered if he could have Seth send them to Mother's wing of the palace.

Next to him, Tony shifted and began to snore. Loki rolled his eyes and left him to it, deciding he might as well start his day.

* * *

Seth was sparring in the sun, grinning like a devil. Four of his soldiers maneuvered around him, circling him, and he bantered with them between blows, laughter drowned out by the clang of metal on metal. Today, Seth wielded a pair of sickle-bladed khopesh and moved with an effortless grace that Loki had forgotten. He was a whirlwind, bare to the waist, and, free of the blue crown, his hair was wild and red, catching the light like flame.

Surrounded by dark-haired relatives, Loki used to tease Seth about his parentage, asking if his mother had lain with a fire giant and not told anyone.

Remembering ice and blue skin, Loki supposed the joke was on him.

Standing in the shade, Loki lingered, watching the dance of muscle under golden skin. He'd meant to call attention to himself, to politely interrupt and have Seth speed them on their way, but he supposed he could wait a few minutes. Seth could be any configuration of asshole, but Loki had always loved to watch him move.

Someone cleared his throat behind Loki's shoulder, and Loki jumped, cursing under his breath.

He glared over his shoulder, glaring harder when he saw it was Tony, who was smirking much too widely for his taste. Loki cleared his throat and straightened, gathering his remaining dignity around him. "I was just – "

Tony chuffed and rolled his eyes. "Mhmm. I know what you were 'just'."

"No, really, I – "

"Oh, come on, Lokes. Can't say I blame you." Tony eyed Seth appreciatively. He let out a low whistle, his eyes gaining a dreamy quality usually reserved for thoughts of boobs. "I'd tap that. If I weren't tapping you, that is. Tapping and marrying."

"Already tapped that," Loki replied, watching Seth with open interest now. "Many times, actually. Lots of tapping." His throat felt suddenly dry, and he coughed into his fist, looking everywhere now but at Seth and Tony.

Tony eyed him for a long moment, one eyebrow raised. After a moment, he smirked and nudged Loki with his elbow. "Hey," he said, leaning in conspiratorially. "Think he'd be up for a threesome?"

Loki let his expression speak for him.

"Oh, what?" Tony griped. "You'll do a horse, but you draw the line at a threesome?"

"No, Anthony," Loki answered sweetly. "I draw the line at a threesome with _Seth_."

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "So you _are_ open to a threesome?"

"Yes, but you're not invited."

Tony pouted, and Loki chuckled, patting his arm. "Now go find something to eat," he said. "I need to make arrangements with Seth. With any luck, we'll be home by supper."

Tony's expression soured. "Don't want me around for the 'arrangements', huh?"

"I just don't want to bore you," Loki lied with a smile.

The clanging of metal had stopped, and Loki's spine prickled with the weight of a familiar stare. Tony heaved a put-upon sigh. "Food. Alright. Try to behave, you."

"I believe that's my line," Loki said, making a shooing gesture.

Tony's parting smirk was almost convincing. Loki let him believe it was.

Tony had barely turned to leave when the flat of a curved blade tapped Loki's arm. Loki drew in a breath and turned, smiling, to Seth.

"Good morning, my lord," Loki said, keeping the pharaoh politely at arm's length, figuratively and literally. Seth's skin was flushed, and sweat pooled in the hollow of his throat.

Seth arched a red eyebrow. "I imagine it would be 'good afternoon' by this point," he said with a teasing smile.

"You exaggerate."

"Not by much." Seth looked him up and down, taking his measure. "I tried to call on you this morning to see how you were. You did not look well yesterday."

Loki straightened and fought not to bristle. "I am well enough, thank you -"

"So I see." Seth's voice hardened as it cut over Loki's. "That was early morning's question, however. Now my question is: where were you?"

"I don't see why that is your concern -"

"Need I remind you," Seth said with a steely smile, "that the last time you were here you nearly decimated my palace? That _makes_ your whereabouts my concern."

Loki bit back the childish 'you deserved it' on the tip of his tongue.

Seth eyed him for a long moment and sighed, shoulders drooping. "I would like us to be friends again," he said softly, long fingers fiddling with the weapons at his sides. "I have missed your company. But I know better than to trust you." Leaning in, he added, "And I do not like being lied to or misled, even in small matters."

Even though Seth no longer towered over him, his proximity made Loki's spine prickle. Loki wondered if staying the night with Tony had been a mistake.

"I was walking the palace halls," Loki said. "Reminiscing. "

He let his smile turn coy, hoping it would change the direction of the conversation, even if that direction was a dangerous one.

Seth's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Gold irises studied his face.

"Liar," Seth murmured, but it was more sigh than accusation now.

Loki smiled, sweet and disarming.

"I should like to return home today, if it is not too much trouble, " he said pleasantly.

Seth studied him a moment more, hummed and arched a red eyebrow. "I'm sure you would, " he said evasively. He tucked his khopesh into his belt and walked past Loki into the palace, blithely ignoring the smile slipping from Loki's lips.

* * *

Eavesdropping was not really Tony's style. In retrospect, that was probably because he wasn't very good at it.

He leaned against the wall, cool stone against his back, and tried to look fascinated by his cuticles as Seth's voice carried around the corner.

A woman walked by his corner, and he found her curves and skin-tight dress far more interesting to look at than his fingernails. Her jet hair was shoulder-length and wound with colored beads, and her white linen dress complemented her caramel skin. Tony favored her with an appreciative look and gave her his best "I'm-just-standing-here-minding-my-own-business" smile, hoping he exuded nonchalance.

When she caught sight of him, the woman's – goddess'? – gait changed to a veritable slink, and she sauntered towards him, smirking in a way that told Tony he was fooling no one. She leaned against the wall next to him and folded her arms. The sly tilt of her dark eyes reminded him of a cat.

Loki's voice floated back to them, smooth as silk.

"Uh," Tony began, wracking his brain for an excuse.

She shushed him and cocked her head, listening for a moment. When there was a lull in the conversation, she leaned in and whispered, "Have they been saying anything juicy?"

"I... what?"

"Oh, come on," she said in a soft hiss, eyes alight with mischief, "your Loki's human, right? We're all dying to know what's going on between him and Seth."

Tony bristled. "Nothing," he hissed back. "There's nothing going on!"

"Oh, really?" She arched an eyebrow at him. They both strained to listen for a moment, but Seth's voice was too soft to make out. "They had quite a fling last time he was here," she went on eagerly. "Seth was married, Odin was furious. It was quite a scandal, really."

_Married_?

"Really?" he whispered.

The woman's eyes canted to his. "Oh yes," she said with a chesire grin. "It's quite the story."

Tony's interest was piqued. This wasn't the sort of thing he could ask Loki about. He leaned in conspiratorially and put on his most winsome smile. "I'd love to hear it."

She considered him for a moment, biting her lip. "How about this," she whispered. "I'll trade you: story for a story."

Tony paused. "Not sure I have one."

"Oh, I doubt that." Another cutting, _knowing_ look. "But later. Might you be free tonight?" She looked at him from the corner of her eye in a way that meant trouble.

Tony cleared his throat. "I doubt we'll be here that long."

She bit back a laugh and rolled her eyes. "Oh, darling," she all but purred, caressing his cheek with one finger. "There's no way Seth would let Loki go so easily."

Tony felt his smile slip. She pushed off the wall and started to walk away.

"I am Bast, by the way," she tossed behind her. Her beaded black hair followed the curve of her shoulder as she glanced behind her. "Tonight, then?"

Tony's eyes bugged. He wasn't sure if he answered or not.

* * *

Back in his room, Tony found himself alone with his thoughts.

And JARVIS.

"Hey," Tony said into his headset, "what do we know about Seth?"

Ombos may not have wifi, but JARVIS had an extensive data base (thank God for his awesome intellect) and Tony had told him to stock up on mythology after his first run-in with Loki.

Might as well make use of his time while Loki was off doing Heimdall-knew-what. Thanks to Bast, he didn't really get to hear much of his conversation with Seth, so Tony Stark was, once again, left in the dark.

At least he wasn't bitter about it or anything.

"Seth is one of the Ennead," JARVIS answered, "the nine core gods of Egypt."

Tony nodded distractedly. "Go on."

"He is the son of Nut and Geb, the gods of the sky and earth, respectively, and brother of Osiris, Isis, and Nephthys."

"Yes, yes, get to the good stuff."

"Your patience, as always, is astounding, sir," JARVIS replied, "but perhaps this will pique your interest: Seth is generally considered the god of the desert, storms, and chaos."

"Chaos," Tony echoed. He frowned, remembering a few things he'd read about Loki.

"He murdered his brother for the throne. Once he was of age, Seth's nephew, Horus, deposed him. Have I gotten to the 'good stuff' yet, sir?"

Tony nodded, gritting his teeth. "I thought I remembered reading about that, yeah. Very _Lion King_."

He was really starting to hate being right.

"Need I remind you, sir," said JARVIS, "that these are merely stories. The truth may be quite different."

He remembered the stories of Loki. While they'd been off on a few details, they'd gotten the gist.

"Tell me about Horus, JARVIS."

* * *

**Footnote:** I don't know why, but the thought of Bast being a horrible gossip amuses me. I have this mental image of Isis scolding her for it but then hitting her up for info anyway.

As always, reviews are loved and welcomed and help motivate me to continue! Thanks for reading!


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